


Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you

by lesbianbean



Category: Orange is the New Black, Supernatural, Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: A response to OITNB's fuckery, F/F, Gen, Multiverses, Poussey deserved better, Spitefic, Stop killing lesbians, Time Travel, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7305190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianbean/pseuds/lesbianbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps the story was never about the privileged or the cruel. Perhaps the story was ours all along.  Poussey Washington wakes up in a motel room with two strangers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tribute to Poussey, who deserves a million universes.  
> TW: police violence, choking, refrences to Poussey's death

The last thing Poussey remembered was the cold tile floor and unbearable pressure, and then, suddenly a hand on hers, before the world faded to black.  
She heard a whooshing sound in her ears, and then she was falling.  
This is it, she thought. This is how I die. It wasn’t right. None of this was right. Not the arm around her neck, not the concrete walls--fuck, she was just a kid when she got locked up! She didn’t even get to give her mother a proper goodbye because of what-- a bag of marijuana? And after years of hell, after rejection and heartbreak and being locked in a cage, this was it? Finally, she had a flicker of happiness and it got snached away, just like that?  
No.  
Poussey’s head hit the floor softly, and her eyes opened to a motel room. She sat up, gasping for air, her hands gripping the dark blue carpet, clenching her eyes shut. I can’t breathe, I can’t see, they’re going to kill me. “Fuck!”  
A hand touched her shoulder. “Shhh. Relax, Poussey. It’s all right. You’re safe.”  
“Get the fuck off me!”  
The hand moved away. “Take your time.”  
Poussey opened her eyes, rubbing her neck. Kneeling next to her was a Native American woman in a flannel shirt with a concerned look on her face. Standing next to her was a blonde white girl in a tight black tank top.  
“Who the hell are you?”  
The woman in flannel smiled faintly. “That’s a long story. My name is Leah, and this is my friend Jo. We’re here to help you.”  
“Help me with what? And where the hell am I?”  
“That’s tricky,” Jo chimed in. “You’re in a sort of...rest stop between universes. From here, you can travel to millions of different worlds. I’m from one. Leah is from another. We met here and now we’re...companions.”  
Leah nodded. “You see, Poussey, the world I’m from was...a nightmare. I got treated like shit because I was confident. I stood up for myself when people mocked me for being human. And one winter night, a woman named Cho Chang brought me here.”  
“I was dying.” Jo said. “My mother was holding me, and I was dying, and then I woke up here with her and a woman named Jessica brought us here. How are you feeling, by the way? The motel heals deadly injuries somehow, but I know my stomach muscles were sore for a few days.”  
Poussey shook her head, wincing as she did so. Her neck was sore. “You’re not making a whole lot of sense.”  
Leah stood and walked to the mini fridge under the television, pulling something out and offering it to Poussey. An ice pack. Poussey pressed it to her neck, sighing in satisfaction.  
“Have you ever felt that the world has done you wrong?” Leah said. “That you’re being punished for no reason, like your life is in the hands of a god who is an asshole?”  
Poussey chuckled. “Always.”  
Jo sat down on the bed. “This motel...it’s a bit of a crossroads. For women-- well, men too, but mostly women who need help, who face cruelty and abuse for no reason other than the fact that they exist.”  
Poussey thought about the religions of Litchfield, the chicken and the egg.  
“So, are you two my guardian angels?”  
Leah laughed, running a hand through her dark hair. “Nothing like that. We just...sensed you were in need. You’re one of us. And so we came here and called out to you, helped pull you out of your universe. The way Cho did for me, and Jessica did for Jo. You can meet them later if you want, tell them your story.”  
“When you say universes, are there really--”  
“Millions?” Leah nodded. “And you can visit any of them. There are beaches are littered with diamonds, jungles where the leaves are purple, crazy cities that cover entire planets--it’s all yours.”  
For a moment, Poussey felt a surge of excitement, but it was crushed by memories of Brooke and Taystee and the rest of her family. They were still trapped.  
“Could I bring people here? My family’s back there. My best friend. My girlfriend.”  
Jo nodded. “You can bring them here. You should This place welcomes the hurt and abused. You know your universe, so you should have no trouble rescuing them. ”  
Poussey felt a smile breaking across her face. Brook and I can travel together, she thought. I can see Taystee again. I can get Suzanne away from those guards.  
And she did. Along with giving the scumbag who tried to kill her a good kick in the nuts.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things: I'm not a big OITNB watcher, but I was so disgusted by the show's recent "plot twist" (you know what would have been a real plot twist? Letting the black lesbian live and be happy.) that I had to write a spitefic that offered Poussey a future. I picked Leah Clearwater and Jo Harville as her "guardians" because they sparked my feminist awakening. After them, I always noticed how badly women get treated in fandom for doing the exact same stuff that male characters did. I figured they'd hit it off with Poussey, seeing as they all deserved better.


End file.
